Childhood Purity
by kayin1
Summary: 2 years old...


Started: 1:45am Saturday 1st June 2002  
  
Couldn't sleep. Decided to start writing.  
  
  
  
Background information: Consider our young protagonist, the light haired (and somewhat light headed) Chacha. Always bubbly, always with a smile, and always with her recognisable red hood. Now, rewind the clock some ten years. There is no red hood, no evil to conquer and no knowledge of her destiny. What is left is the smile in a time of purity that is childhood. Therein lay this story.  
  
Well, perhaps not. But like all fan fictions, this is merely an extrapolation of events. True, in the world that is fiction, this may not have happened at all. But in the realm of the imagination, anything is possible.  
  
And so begins this tale of Childhood Purity.  
  
  
  
Childhood Purity  
  
As much as he loved and cared for her, he also needed his time away from her. It is the same in any healthy relationship. He had often wondered how it was possible but even language had a way of defying his logic: Too much of a good thing, Too good to be true, Too many cooks spoil the broth. They all pointed to one thing, and that one thing was that too much was not good for you.  
  
Which is why he now found himself walking from his room to hers. The short period known as "night" was his only reprieve from her in the 24-hours that made up a day. By separating their bedrooms, it was ensured that he wasn't getting "too much of her".  
  
About half way between their rooms, he glanced nonchalantly at the clock adorning the wall of the living room. Around the clock were numerous holes, made obviously by nails that were hammered in only to be pulled out again repeatedly. And surrounding the holes, the paint was cracking and peeling. They were telltale signs of his carpentry skills, or lack of thereof. Incidentally, he could have just snapped his fingers and the clock would have been in the perfect position and in perfect alignment. But he had not done so because she was in the room.  
  
This was no ordinary man but one that wielded a considerable amount of power. You see, the title of "World's Greatest Magician" is not to be taken lightly.  
  
The minute hand of the clock crawled over the 12 and the clock began its chiming, welcoming the coming of the 6th hour of the day. The fourth chime was drowned out by the cries of someone who could command the "World's Greatest Magician" at her slightest whim. Was she someone even more powerful than he? Perhaps, but she had yet to celebrate her second birthday.  
  
"Good grief Chacha," he slurred. It was not the early mornings that he wasn't used to. It was the lack of sleep. "How can you be up so early? You didn't sleep til nearly 1am."  
  
He brought up his right hand and rubbed his head as if trying to massage the sleep out of it. Blinking the mist from his eyes, he looked up to see Chacha already standing against the side of her crib. She lit up the instant she saw him and began to reach out towards him. Her eyes were as wide as her smile. Her arms, tiny they may be, were not without movement. She had accidentally discovered that by flailing her arms in the air, she could make him come towards her and perhaps even pick her up. What a find!  
  
"Ga ba ba! Sebaveee!" she squealed in delight.  
  
Seravy stood at the door. His mind was still dumbfounded. 5 hours of sleep yet she appeared to have the strength of 5 men. It defied all logic. But then again, children that have not been spoiled by the world and its ways would naturally not obey its rules. Pure innocence protected them from the truths of the world.  
  
He conceded and walked to her. He picked her up in his arms and she giggled. She liked it when he carried her. It made her feel like the tallest person in the world. It gave her a different perspective from what she was used to. Crawling on all fours, she often would have to look up. Now, she was up looking down.  
  
"Well, good morning to you too! How would you like some breakfast?" he asked her. She replied with some baby gabble but that was enough for him. He carried her out of the nursery and set her on her high chair. Some of her toys were strewn over the floor from last night. He picked two up and handed them to her.  
  
"Entertain yourself while I make breakfast, OK?" he said. She listened with a solemn expression. "And don't drop any of them."  
  
And if on purpose or by accident, she dropped one of her toys.  
  
"Oopie!"  
  
"I'm not picking that up for you." He turned to the kitchen to make breakfast. As he walked away from her, he heard her whine. Sighing, he turned around and pointed to the other toy still in her hand. "You still have one more."  
  
Her eyes followed his finger to the toy in her left hand. It was a little plane. Then she suddenly remembered that it was not just any plane. This was her plane. Her face drew into a smile. When this plane was flown by Pilot Chacha, it could fly to the moon and back! And it often did.  
  
With her tiny fist grasping the plane, she took off into the sky. Back and forth, up and down, she flew the plane over the houses, over the tress, over the hills. At times the plane flew right side up. At other times it was upside down. It hardly mattered to her. She was flying to the moon!  
  
A familiar aroma of eggs frying in a pan caught her attention. Her plane stopped in mid air and she enjoyed the new scent in the room. Her mouth began to water.  
  
"You like the smell?" Seravy teased. He was leaning back to look through the door at her. "It won't be long now." With that, he turned his attention back to the eggs. And Chacha turned hers to piloting her plane to the moon.  
  
Seravy walked out with a plate in one hand and a small bowl in the other. The plate, his plate, had eggs lying sunny side up on toast with bacon on the side. The bowl, her bowl, contained something that he had a hard time defining but was marketed as baby food.  
  
He didn't understand the concept of baby food. First there were the small bottles of baby formula. Mush, he called it. That was all the bottles contained. Mush. This particular variety of baby food was less mushy that it's bottled counterpart but was not quite chunky either. His friend Dorothy had recommended, no commanded, him to feed it to Chacha. While he generally trusted a female's maternal instinct, he was further comforted by the fact that she too was raising a young one, but hers was a little boy. Neither of them was the real parent of their dependant but both were proud nonetheless.  
  
As he set the plate and bowl down, Chacha threw her toy plane into the air. Unlike real planes, gravity took effect on this one almost immediately. In one piece is smashed against the wall and in two pieces it hit the floor. Seravy sighed. He would have to fix the plane. Again. This wasn't the first time that Chacha had broken that particular plane. By his count, this was the 5th. And each time, Seravy gave in and used his magic to fix it. Not in her presence of course. He tried to use his powers as little as possible so that Chacha would not grow up in an environment where it was the norm. He wanted her to discover her powers for herself.  
  
That was the reason he did everything manually. The clock, cleaning her, teaching her out to feed herself. It would be oh so easy with magic. But it would ruin the learning experience. And discovering her powers would probably be the most important lesson for her to learn.  
  
He placed her bowl in the tray of her high chair. There was a fat orange spoon in her bowl with the end of the handle shaped like a bunny. He expected her to feed herself after he had so painstakingly taught her. She was a fast learner and managed to pick it up. But she was still a baby and just as much food found her cheeks as her mouth.  
  
Seravy enjoyed the morning entertainment while he attacked his eggs. Chacha on the other hand was oblivious to him as she now piloted her spoon into her mouth. She could still smell Seravy's eggs but was unaware that it wasn't emanating from her food. It didn't matter to her, she just enjoyed the smell as it lingered in the air.  
  
Because his motor skills were far more developed, Seravy finished his breakfast before she did. Realising that it could be night before she finished, he took the spoon from her hand and proceeded to feed her. Besides, judging by the amount of food on her face and in her hair, it would be a sin to waste any more of it.  
  
"Oh well, I'm going to bathe you anyway." Seravy chuckled as the words left his mouth. "You're always getting messy, aren't you?"  
  
"Cleeee!"  
  
A quick bath and a change of clothes later, Chacha found herself being set on the floor of her nursery. Seravy had dressed her in a striped black & white t-shirt and red overalls. She stared at the wall while he tied her hair into two pig tails. When he was done, she looked up at him quizzically.  
  
"Sorry girl, but that's the only way I know how to tie hair. I mean, do you ever see me tying my own?" She giggled and it made him giggle to.  
  
"Well," he picked her up and set her in her crib. "You stay here and play with your toys for the time being. I've got to get some work done. After lunch we'll go and meet Dorothy in the park." And with that, he walked out of the room, leaving the door slightly ajar.  
  
With Seravy gone, Chacha scanned the area around her. There were a good number of toys in her crib, probably about 5 or 6. Any one of them could have held her attention for the entire span of the morning. But not this morning. She was feeling rather fastidious and none of the toys around her would do. She made her way to the side of the crib and peered between the bars.  
  
There it was! Chacha had found what she was looking for. A blue sword about a foot long, covered with colourful stickers. It was a toy made for boys and so Seravy was surprised when he first saw Chacha reach out for the sword, her way of saying "I want!" To him, it was a sign of things to come. To her, it was just another toy.  
  
Yes, she had found it but there was of course a problem. She was up in the crib and the sword was down on the floor. How to get to it, she thought. Her small arms pushed at the side of the crib. It resisted her and would not budge. She sat down defeated and began to pout. She wanted the crib wall to fall down. She wanted it so badly. In her mind, she could picture the wall falling.  
  
Two 'clicks' brought her out of her gloom. Somehow, the latches that kept the crib wall closed unhooked themselves. The wall fell down and showed the way to the floor. Chacha was momentarily stunned. Had she done that? And if so, how? Then she saw the blue sword, the object of her desire, and forgot all about the crib. The wall of the crib now formed a shallow slope to the floor. She climbed down and picked up what would be her favourite toy of the day.  
  
About an hour ago, she was a pilot. Now, she was a warrior! On all fours, she scampered to a corner of the room where she saw ugly creatures. Chacha had yet to understand what was 'good' and what was 'evil'. All she knew was that the ugly creatures were always the ones that had to be defeated. And in the corner, she saw a group of them.  
  
With a clumsy swing of her sword, they were gone! But wait! There were more! Swarming behind her, she could hear them approach.  
  
"Boom! Blar! Bwahahahaha!"  
  
She was enjoying herself. She would not lose. She could not. It was her imagination painting the story. Back and forth she swung her sword and occasionally side to side as well. None of the ugly creatures could stand up to her as long as she had her sword!  
  
Chacha looked up at her crib and saw more ugly creatures. But this time, they had a hostage! Her beloved teddy bear was in their grasps. She had to save him!  
  
"Aiiiiieeeee!!!"  
  
The warrior clambered up the crib wall and rushed between the enemy and her teddy bear. Chacha put her hands on the crib floor in front of her and rested her weight on them as she straightened her legs behind her. When her bottom was fully in the air, she shifted the weight back to her legs and brought her arms up. She was standing up.  
  
With her sword in her left hand, she swung to the right. Then to the left. But they kept coming, swarming all around her. She knew that she had to deliver one powerful blow. She clasped both her hands around the sword and brought it up above her head to give the final strike.  
  
She over judged. She had swung the sword too far behind her and now she was losing her balance. Teetering over the edge of the crib, time appeared to slow down as she lost her footing. Chacha began to fall through the air but she seemed to be falling through jelly because it all happened so slowly.  
  
Like a flash, a pillow jumped up from the floor and flew to meet her in mid air. She landed on it and lost nothing but her breath. Slowly, the pillow lowered her down to the ground.  
  
For the second time that morning, Chacha was stunned. She sat up on the pillow, eyes wide. She blinked a couple of times, still not being able to make head nor tail of the situation. Looking at her sword, she smiled. Victory was hers!  
  
Chacha's mouth opened to embrace a yawn. Fighting ugly creatures was hard work and she was tired. Holding her sword close to her, she lay down on her life saving pillow and fell asleep almost in an instant.  
  
Seravy was peeking through the door that he had left ajar earlier on. He was right to have checked on her when she heard her "battle cry". He had been just in time to send the pillow too. Glancing once more at the curled heap on the nursery floor, he closed the door and went back to work.  
  
Finished: 4:17am Saturday 1st June 2002 


End file.
